


A Chance Encounter [Audio Added]

by Archangel Raphael (tsuduku)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Audio Content, Aziraphale takes you into the bookshop and tells you everything is okay (ASMR), Feel-good, Fluff, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Guardian Angel Aziraphale (Good Omens), I'm sad so I wrote this, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, asexual friendly fic, does this count as like asmr?, for those sad days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsuduku/pseuds/Archangel%20Raphael
Summary: After a bad day you are wandering outside alone in the rain and you run into Aziraphale who takes you into his bookshop and cares for you.First person POV from the reader's perspective. Gender neutral so you can feel yourself. For the best experience, play the audio!
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 40





	A Chance Encounter [Audio Added]

**Author's Note:**

> FOR THE BEST EXPERIENCE, HIT PLAY ON [THIS](https://youtu.be/IvJQTWGP5Fg)
> 
> i know i have like 500 unpublished things i promised to post but life fucking sucks and i'm destroyed so i wrote this to cope lmao.
> 
> inspired by a dumb tweet

_After a distressing day you are outside, it is raining, and a certain angel was out running heavenly errands._

* * *

Aziraphale loved flying, but now a days he rarely had the chance to do so, as most humans now had ways of recording an undercover celestial being in their midst. Tonight, he had an opportunity. The sky was already darkened by the absence of the sun, and the heavy rain clouds obscured any view of the stars, giving Aziraphale free reign to flex his wings as long as he stayed above the rain clouds. All was going well, he was heading back to his bookshop until something tingled his angelic senses. 

Below, the night is dark, cold, and unwelcoming. You lean on a street lamp, hugging your arms against your chest. Suddenly, you see white above in the midst of dark clouds and pouring raindrops. Your first instinct is to run, but in a split second that fight or flight response is completely gone and replaced with a warm inner calm. You stand there wide eyed as an angel comes down, white wings unfolded, and soft pale blonde curls untouched by the rain. The angel is dressed in a way that almost makes them look like a librarian or English professor at some posh school. The angel approaches you, wrapping his massive white wings around your body to shelter you from the rain. 

“Oh you poor dear.” says the angel “Come with me, let me take care of you.” 

You nod quietly. 

“Are you my guardian angel?” you ask, voice timid and shaking from the cold. 

“For tonight I am.” the angel smiles “Please, call me Aziraphale.” 

In the blink of an eye you are standing in front of a door, a wing still sheltering you from the rain overhead. Aziraphale pushes the door open to reveal a quiet cozy bookshop. You step inside and are instantly hit with the scent of old books, leather, and a hint of something very pleasant that you can’t quite describe. 

“Now, we need to get you all dry and warmed up.” said Aziraphale as he ushers you towards a door at the very back of the bookshop. “Right through here there is a washroom with a warm bath set up and some dry clothing. Please relax and make yourself comfortable while I get the fireplace going my dear.” 

With a warm smile the angel walks away, leaving you alone to enter through the ancient looking doorway. You take a deep breath and walk right in, the wooden door creaks gently as its pushed aside and reveals a cozy looking white room, tinted yellow in the glow of various candles all emitting a soft heavenly scent. You close the door behind you and hesitate for a bit, before slowly peeling off the layers of wet clothing. To the side there is a shelf filled with glass jars, and in the glass jars there are all sorts of bath salts and herbs. The shelf below that one is filled with little vials of aromatic oils and a jar of body lotion that looks like it came out of the 1930s. 

You choose the salts, herbs, and oils that you like best and pour them into the ready filled bathtub. As you slowly lower your body into the tub you realize that the water is somehow the perfect temperature. Warmth surrounds your aching cold skin and gentle aromas tickle your nose with every breath. The scents are never overpowering or too faded. Once you are settled in, you begin to hear soft sounds in the distance. Aziraphale shuffling around the bookshop, a soft classical melody from an old gramophone, the gentle creaking of all the wooden shelves, and the storm raging outside. 

Your muscles begin to unwind, tension leaving your body with every exhale. Time marches on, yet the water remains warm and the scents fresh. The candles never burn out and the wax never drips to the floor. After a while you feel as if you are merely floating through space, your body at complete ease, and your mind slowly following. It isn’t until you hear the loud shriek of the kettle, muffled by the wooden door, that you decide you should get up and reunite with the angel that brought you inside. 

Once you step out of the tub, you realize that your wet clothing has completely vanished from the room. There is now a small wooden nightstand with a fluffy white bath towel on it. You pick up the towel to dry yourself off, and it feels like a cloud on a warm spring day. It is soft, gentle and soothing. Where the towel once was, there is now a set of tartan pyjamas perfectly tailored to your body. You reach out to the antique jars again, lathering your nude body in a luxurious balm that leaves your skin feeling like warm silk. 

“Ah, there you are my dear!” says Aziraphale when he sees you standing in front of the washroom door dressed in the tartan pyjamas. His wings are somehow gone now. 

“Come come.” he says, waving his hand.

You follow Aziraphale to a cozy old couch surrounded by piles of old books and facing a fireplace with all sorts of oddities and knick knacks on the shelf. There is a low coffee table between the couch and the fireplace, and on it is a silver tray with a porcelain tea set decorated with delicate pale blue flowers. 

“Here you are.” says Aziraphale, who is now sitting beside you, extending a cup of tea towards you. 

“Thank you.” you reply, taking the cup to your lips. It’s warm and somehow tastes like a river glittering gently in the sunset.

“Now, I don’t know what drove you to be outside in the rain like that, but I do know that you needn’t worry anymore my dear. Everything is going to be alright.” 

Aziraphale’s warm smile makes you believe his words. His eyes glisten with stardust trapped in them, and he looks at you as if you’re the most gentle and precious being in the world. 

“Before you protest, remember that you can’t argue with me. I’m an angel, I’m not capable of lying! I also know how to spot kindness in others, and I can see it in you. You are so kind and strong and you are all deserving of Her grace.” 

You sit there silently taking his words in, occasionally sipping from the teacup. Suddenly, you can feel the pain rise in your chest again. So you set the teacup down gently, and without explanation, throw your arms around the angel and begin to sob into his chest. 

“Shhh oh there there now.” Aziraphale coos as he returns the embrace, wrapping his arms tightly around your body. His embrace is both strong and gentle at the same time. Fiercely protective and perfectly comforting. 

“I can’t make it all go away my dear, but I can promise you that everything will be okay in the end. Yes? It’s all part of the plan, and you are fulfilling your role marvelously! Yes, that’s right, you have a purpose here and it is very very important. Neither Heaven nor Hell can carry out their plans without you humans fulfilling your purposes, and you are doing so splendidly my dear.” 

The storm continues to rage outside, washing away the residue of the day. Rain splatters onto the roof and on the windows, creating a soothing rhythm. The fire crackles and fills the gaps of silence left by the off beat pitter-patter of rain.

“You can’t see them right now, but we angels have many eyes, and I will make sure to keep one of those eyes on you. I will always be watching over you, but I will never judge you my dear. Oh no, I won’t ever.” 

Aziraphale’s voice is soothing over your aching heart while his hand gently rubs your back. Your sobs begin to slow. 

“I know things are hard, but never give up. I will always be cheering you on, and don’t worry, if you do something bad or harmful in moments like these, I won’t judge you. All you need to do is promise that you will try very hard to never do that again. Your body is lovely, so lovely, please take good care of it on my behalf.” 

“Shhh. I won’t judge. Not even the Almighty Herself judges you. She doesn’t even judge me and my choices. Relax little one, you were made to love and be loved. Trust me, even I who have loved someone I shouldn’t have… Well, I learned there’s no such thing as someone you shouldn’t love. And if I could love a demon, and could be loved in return, then I promise you that someone else will love you too. Even when you think yourself unlovable and unforgivable, you still are.” 

Your sobs finally quiet down, and the tears stop flowing. A lulling wave of sleepiness overcomes you, and you begin to slowly sink your head down onto the angel’s lap. 

“There there now,” Aziraphale whispers as he gently pets your hair. “Get some rest my dear. No worries, you are safe, and not a bother. Not even a tiny bit.” 

Your eyelids begin to drop while a gentle symphony of sounds fills your ears and soothes your thoughts.

The warmth of the tartan pyjamas, 

crackling of the fire, 

pitter-patter of raindrops, 

distant sound of the gramophone, 

occasional creaking of wooden shelves, 

and the light scribbles of a quill pen as Aziraphale writes down a heavenly memo about you.

* * *

You wake up the following morning in your bed and your own pyjamas, but instead of feeling disappointed or alone, you feel refreshed, inspired, and calm. Beside your face there is one pristine white feather. 

**Author's Note:**

> Aziraphale believes in you. Try not to let him down, but don't be hard on yourself if you do. Remember he won't judge you. He just wants you to promise that you will try again and give it your best.


End file.
